Touch of Nature

Touch of Nature Time hath a wallet at his back Hoarding alms for oblivion, A monster devouring gratitude, Engorged on forgotten deeds, past victories scraps tossed aside. Scraps forgotten as soon as done. Perseverance keeps honour bright. To quit hangs favor out of fashion, Like rusty mail in monumental mockery, yesterday's news, old armor rusting. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, Chasing new-born gauds with one consent, Though made and moulded of things past. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin— Praise the dust of yesterday’s gilt, dusted by time and forgotten fast. Honour travels in a strait so narrow, Where one but goes abreast — keep then the path. For emulation hath a thousand sons That one by one pursue. Honor’s road is tight With room for but one at a time. Stay on, lest crowds of rivals rush by. Give way, or hedge aside To the incoming tide, Leaving you hindmost. The most gallant warhorse falls first, Trampled in the abject rear. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, Chasing new-born gauds with one consent, Though they're made and moulded of things past. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin— Praise the dust that's a little gilt, Gold o'er-dusted and forgotten fast. Time is a fashionable host Slightly shaking hands of parting guests With arms outstretch'd to newcomers: Welcome ever smiles, as farewells go out sighing. Time's a trendy host, barely nodding goodbyes With arms flung wide for novelty, walking in the door. Present eyes praise present objects. Marvel not all Greeks worship Ajax. Things in motion catch the eye sooner Than what not stirs sitting in its tent. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, Praising as new what’s old, remade. Give more to dust of little gilt Than true gold buried and o'er-dusted. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin— So rise up, great Achilles, don't entomb your fame, Lest the cry that once was yours fade away again. Get back in the fight... before time forgets you. Wouldst thou not case thy reputation in thy tent? Don't bury yourself alive—your past battles shook even the gods. Whose glorious deeds drave great Mars to faction.